Worries And Acceptance
by uber-tastic
Summary: His eyes lingered on the strange mark on her wrist, and when he looked at her face again, she had averted her gaze to the open window. Sothe/Micaiah.


**Author's Note:** Another Sothe/Micaiah fic. This one takes place after Micaiah collapses (Part 3, Ch. 7), when she's diagnosed with exhaustion. The scene is the her sick room. Umm... once again, if you see any typos, please tell me somehow so I can do something about them.

Characters: main - Micaiah, Sothe ; mentioned - Nolan, Edward, Leonardo, Pelleas, Ike, Ranulf, Tormod

Pairing: Sothe/Micaiah - Err... probably my OTP.

**Disclaimer: **Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn is owned by Intelligent Systems and, ultimately, Nintendo. I do not own.

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Sothe sat beside Micaiah's bed in a chair he had pulled up. He held her Branded hand in one of his. His other stroked the design lightly, his finger occasionally tracing the pattern.

"You don't have to prove yourself to anyone. You know that right?" He stopped staring at their hands to look at his best friend. She, meanwhile, was still staring at their intertwined fingers. "No one expects you push yourself so hard. Nolan, Edward, Leonardo, _me_. We care more about your well-being than that of our country's. You should know that. Hell, I don't think Pelleas expects you to push yourself this hard!"

Micaiah's eyes stayed glued to their hands. She remained silent.

"Listen, Micaiah. We'll all love you, no matter what. I'll love you-" Micaiah sucked in a deep breath at those words, but Sothe ignored that and continued, "no matter what. I said I'd protect you, but I can't if you're the one running yourself into the ground!" he yelled angrily. He waited a few seconds but received no reply.

The rogue sighed. He glanced down at their hands again. His fingers moved over her uncovered Brand naturally, like they were meant for such a purpose. His eyes lingered on the strange mark on her wrist, and when he looked at her face again, she had averted her gaze to the open window.

"This doesn't have anything to do with, you know…" he asked, trailing off.

"No. What?" It was the first time Micaiah had spoken since he entered the room. He had pulled up the chair, taken off her glove, taken her hand, and started stroking it without a word from his companion. She seemed to enjoy the silence they had established.

"The Brand." Her hand twitched at his words, and his fingers stopped their motion.

She looked at him, straight, for the first time since he entered the room. Her expression was anything but pleased.

"What about my Brand?"

"I don't know," he answered honestly. "Maybe you feel people expect more from you because of the powers it gives you. Maybe you think that you need to push yourself because you have abilities no one else does. You tell – "

"My Brand has nothing to do with anything!" she hissed at him. She wrenched her hand from his gasp, but he kept his hands in the same position they were for before. He couldn't help but miss the warmth that left with her palm. He kept his eyes on his empty hands.

"Sorry. I just… I want to protect you, but right now, I don't know how. I feel helpless when you're the one causing yourself harm, and I don't know how to help."

She let out a long breath. "I'm sorry, too, Sothe. For getting in too deep. This is exactly the kind of thing you keep warning me about. But… I couldn't just sit back as Begnion ruined our nation, and now that I'm in, I can't get out."

The pair fell back into silence, and Sothe started wringing his hands aimlessly. "You know, during the Mad King's War, I just about drove myself insane looking for you. You said that you rushed back to Daein after you heard war broke out, right?" He paused for some kind of response, but none came. "Yet, when the Crimean Liberation Army attacked Nevassa, you were nowhere to be found. Do you know how worried I was then?"

She looked at him, a weary expression on her face, but it had nothing to do with her current state of fatigue. "We've gone through this before, Sothe."

"I'm just trying to prove a point, Micaiah." She reached out and grabbed his hand. A small smile flickered on his face.

"I know you were worried, but this is something I have to do. We're thinking of two different times, anyways," she told him, stroking his hand just he had done to hers. "I believe in Pelleas, and I'm sure there's a reason behind this war." Her voice held such finality; he was surprised she could be so confident. "A good reason, mind you," she added when he opened his mouth.

"…I'm still worried," he muttered to himself, instead.

"Who's running themselves into the ground, now?" she asked, a giggle seeping into her voice. "Worrying so much will just take years off your life, and if anyone needs to knock off some years, it's me."

"…That's hardly a laughing matter," Sothe responded.

Micaiah didn't say anything at first, but released her friend's hand from her grip. She leaned forward and placed her newly freed palms around her companions face. His cheeks flushed at the feeling of her warm grasp.

"Listen to me, Sothe. Don't worry yourself about me so much anymore, alright? I'm not even sure why you stick around me so much."

"What are you talki-"

"I saw how much it hurt to face your old comrades in the battle at the Ribahn River. Why do you bother here, anyway? I left you, so why are you here?"

"Micaiah…"

"Shush, Sothe. Just listen." She kept her hold on his face forcing his eyes to stare into hers. One of her hands rubbed his cheek slightly, and he found himself leaning into her caress. "You still have time to change sides, if you want. No one will take it personally."

"Micaiah," he paused, as if waiting to see if she'd interrupt him again, "you're right. It's hard to fight those I depended on just a few years ago, but how can you think that I'd leave you? Fighting with them means fighting against _you_. I wouldn't – no – can't do something like that.

"You wonder why I'm here. Well, right now, I wonder why you doubt me at all. I don't care if I had to cut down Ike, Ranulf, Tormod, or anyone else I met during the last war. I can't just leave your side if it means you're the one I'd have to kill in battle.

"I told you I'd protect you, and I refuse to go back on my word. I don't care if that means I have to fall at the hands of an old friend." Micaiah smiled sadly at his words. "We're family," he finished lamely, his eyes dropping contact with hers.

"Family," she repeated. "Of course. Now if you will, family…"

Sothe's brown orbs connected with her golden ones, and she smiled brighter at the eye contact. Slowly, she leaned her body forward, their faces coming closer together. She continued her path until her lips met his in an innocent, loving peck.

Micaiah pulled away from the rogue, and he felt heat flood to his face, as a smile spread across his bright-red face. She released her grasp from his cheeks, and, despite the heat currently in them, his cheeks felt oddly cold. With one last, radiant smile, the sage flopped onto her bed, settling in and ready to sleep.

"Oh! Right! I-I should l-l-let you get s-some rest. S-sorry, Micaiah," he finally managed to stutter out before fleeing the room and shutting the door behind him.

Micaiah smiled to herself, while slipping her glove over her Brand. Her head dropped to the pillow as the smile still graced her mouth. She drifted into sleep, her lips still happily tingling.

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**End Author's Note:** My attempt at fluff!

I orginally wrote this in my head instead of paying attention in class, so when I typed this up, it ended differently than I had it. The original didn't have such a happy ending (it may have involved Sothe storming out of the room in frustration), but such is rewriting a story. At any rate, I hope you readers enjoy this new one.

By the way, I don't have too many new ideas, so it may be awhile before I post another story. Suggestions would be appreciated.


End file.
